My Last Chatelaine
by Scarlet Secret
Summary: Sometimes it was hard and sometimes it was easy but O'Brien wouldn't begrudge a single year to Cora.


A/N: Written in time I should have allotted to NaNoWriMo but at least it's involving the same people so that's a step in the right direction. I do not own them - if I did all the scenes would be O'Brien playing with Cora's hair and making her do the pretty smiles.

* * *

><p><strong>My Last Chatelaine<strong>

_The first thing she notices about the visiting chatelaine from the local big house is that she is remarkably plain looking. Not ugly per say – she's certainly better looking than _her_ Mother – but she thinks that with a different hairstyle and a better fitted corset the woman could be almost beautiful. It might be an uphill struggle with her hair: it's a bit lank really and a positively gruesome shade of red that made her look like she had only applied whatever product she used to half her hair. It was shocking really and matching that colour with a pale yellow gown gave her the look of one of the roosters on her Dad's farm. _

_No, all things being considered, Sarah O'Brien certainly did not think the chatelaine was a particularly impressive looking woman. But she nonetheless left an impression._

_After school had finished for the day Sarah all but ran home to puzzle out how she would fix the problem of the chatelaine's hair and ended up dying her fingertips red with the attempt. Her Mother hadn't been best pleased and the teacher had threatened to give her to cane if she came to school stained red again, but her Dad had been rather proud as the dye had come in handy to mark the sheep._

* * *

><p>"<em>I don't know why you listen to her."<em>

The recently elevated Countess of Grantham smiled at the woman opposite her and contemplated whether the teaching she'd received about how to deport oneself in society was secretly supposed to serve you equally well through the tedious process of hiring staff. It certainly seemed like she'd smiled at more women of variable competence in the last week than she had smiled at Robert for the first year she'd known him. Regardless, she continued to smile even as the young woman – _"Much too young," _her mother-in-law had chipped in with - as she did as she had been bid by her elder and gently told the girl that she wasn't suitable for the position.

Cora slumped back in her seat for a moment after the girl left, earning herself a sharp look and a sniff of irritation from Violet that made her sit back up immediately, and she wondered, not for the first time, whether her mother-in-law genuinely had nothing better to do now that she was in mourning. It had been three months, three months during which Violet had removed herself to the Dower House with a great deal less fuss than Cora had imagined she would, only coming back, she claimed, to ensure Cora hadn't tacked the American flag to the walls yet. And now she was here to oversee her hiring of a lady's maid, passing comment the moment the girls left the room and leaving Cora in no uncertain terms about what she thought of them. Why someone being a certain age was so important Cora would never know but she chose not to ask too much about Violet's ways and merely kept interviewing applicants. If filling every position was this bothersome they really should start appreciating the Housekeeper more!

"Shall we try the next one?"

"Yes Mama."

She sighed and nodded wearily at the butler to bring in the new one. He gave her a sympathetic look and Cora thought Mr Carson must understand how it felt to be recently elevated: on the other hand the previous butler was not coming back every day to pass judgment on him. He returned quickly with a woman Cora decided she liked immediately: she was immaculately coiffed and possessed a calmness about her that Cora's last maid had certainly lacked. And she looked like she might actually be experienced enough for even Violet not to complain!

"Hello, I'm Lady Grantham."

The woman gave her a small but warm smile and waited politely to be gestured into a seat, handing over her references for Cora to read with efficiency that even Violet couldn't fault. Cora glanced over the papers and grew even more hopeful: she was exceptionally well trained, had some excellent references that spoke of her work ethic and her character. Oh this was too good to be true!

"Well this is all very impressive Miss…" Cora looked down at the letter and immediately felt her heart sink even though she tried desperately to keep the disappointment from her face. "Augustine."

She didn't _see _Violet's eyebrows raise but Cora felt them move in her very being. The imperious tones from earlier rang in her ears – _"Find an Englishwoman, my dear. Someone who can explain things to you although goodness knows you should know them by now!"_ – and with a sigh Cora gave the Frenchwoman her regrets immediately, not even bothering to get either of their hopes up. It was terribly unfortunate though! She was easily the prettiest servant Cora had ever seen who would know all about the latest fashions from Paris and be able to arrange her hair and make-up to the highest standard. She thought for a moment about hiring her just to spite Violet but Cora knew she'd never hear then end of it. The Mademoiselle looked put out but left swiftly and Cora nearly cried. The chances of her find another maid that good were slim to none, what did it matter if she was _French?_

"A wise choice my dear, no doubt her ideas would have led you astray eventually."

Cora nodded along dutifully, trying not to feel like a child and instead a Countess with three young girls, but Violet did have a habit of making her feel like that. She didn't really see how a maid could lead her mistress astray but it wasn't worth asking and instead she composed herself for the next one and didn't feel quite the same thrill when the door reopened.

The woman that came in was not a patch upon the previous applicant. She had none of the elegance and didn't look like she knew the first thing about fashion. She was the right age, which might appease Violet, and given the dullness of her coat Cora suspected she might just be true working class English stock. No doubt she would be precisely what Violet was looking for, but how on earth would a woman like that know the first thing about arranging hair? She might as well keep having the housemaid do it for all the extra skill she would be paying for!

Well, Cora thought in a pique of irritation, if Violet liked her then Violet could damn well hire her! She was going to make her own mind up about this woman and use the experience of having stood up to Violet to interview the rest of the applicants coming this week on her own. Still, even without too much hope she had the politeness to plaster on a smile and gesture for the woman to sit.

"Hello, I'm Lady Grantham."

"Sarah O'Brien m'lady. It's very nice to meet you."

Definitely English. Exceedingly so but Cora heard no objecting coughs from the corner so persevered. She looked over the woman's referenced and found them perfectly sound –they were far from being as effusive as the previous applicants but there wasn't a thing wrong with them – and it seemed this woman did have the proper training for hair and…she'd worked in a dress shop? Well this was certainly a little more promising. If this woman was skilled at making clothes then things were looking up but if she possessed a skill like that then it did beg a question she'd barely managed to ask half of the applicants due to her mother-in-law's interference.

"What brings you to apply for this position?"

Cora tried to look interested, but after nearly a whole week of girls who'd all told her they were excited to better themselves, get on in life and would be honoured to work for the Countess of Grantham, she was not overly hopeful for anything too original. She levelled her gaze upon this Sarah O'Brien and sighed, wondering vaguely what Violet's problem would be. Well, she thought, she might as well let this one hang herself a little more spectacularly.

"Honestly please. I've heard enough nonsense for one day."

The woman didn't look particularly taken aback but Cora did notice the flicker of her eyes towards Violet in the corner and the slightest movement of her cheek that looked like it could have so nearly been a smirk. Out of the corner of her eye Cora saw the Dowager's eyes flicker too and knew she was paying keener attention to Sarah O'Brien than she was to her sewing: had she been given the chance Cora would have told the woman of the rare honour of interest she was being given.

"'onestly m'lady?"

Cora nodded and waited for the inevitably useless reply, amused to note that whatever pretence of not having a rather thick accent O'Brien had been holding up before had ceased notably.

"When my Mother found out this job paid more than the dress shop I'd been working in she made me," she spoke with the same confidence as Violet, thankfully, Cora thought, without the bite. "And I'm not entirely sure yet but I think she wants to rent out my bedroom to a lodger."

Cora smiled immediately and didn't even bother to look around. Whatever Violet's criticism were – insolence was high on Cora's suspected list – there was no denying that this one was old enough, sensible enough, clever enough and English enough that she filled all of the requirements her mother-in-law had insisted upon. If she complained about O'Brien Cora would just tell her she refused to hire a new maid and was going to let one of the housemaids do her hair hereafter and see how the old woman liked _that_.

"Will she get much for it?"

Cora froze as Violet actually deigned to speak to the first potential maid all week. Hopefully the poor woman would prevail but she'd have to be made of stronger stuff than she had been on her first encounter with the Dowager.

"I doubt it m'lady. It's only a tiny room, but I suppose it'll help towards the rent put together with anything else I can earn."

"And have you ever been in service before?"

"Yes, I was trained as a housemaid when I was young."

"It didn't take your fancy to remain dedicated to it then?"

Cora recognised the tone and swallowed on O'Brien's behalf, but she found to her astonishment she needn't have bothered and the woman looked up at Violet, confident as she had been when she walked in whilst maintaining her respectful tone. Cora thought it some kind of witchcraft that allowed the woman to look composed and humble whilst utterly unperturbed by Violet Crawley.

"It did m'lady, but the house didn't suit me and I decided to learn dressmaking. I wanted to have a practical skill; you need at least one to get through life I reckon."

For a moment Cora wondered how long it would take for Violet to snap back and have this woman removed from the house but instead she surprised her.

"I quite agree…Cora I don't think I'm needed any longer."

And with that Violet swept from her seat and left the room without another comment, leaving Cora quite stunned and Miss O'Brien looking between the Countess and the retreating Dowager shrewdly. Cora tried to look nonchalant but when she met the other woman's face she found her smiling ever so slightly and sighed dramatically in relief with a smile of her own.

"Thank goodness for that. It's the first time she's left me alone for days."

Cora reached for the tea at long last, pleased that she could finally do so without getting an impatient sniff behind her, only to find it had gone stone cold in the long time since Carson had brought it up. She sighed and looked over the letters in her lap again with renewed interest. Violet seemed to have given Sarah O'Brien the seal of approval – at least Cora assumed that was what the swift exit was about – so she really should make up her mind about the woman quickly. She was either going to annoy her mother-in-law thoroughly by sending her away or hire the woman and be done with it but she couldn't just hire her because Violet liked her could she? It wasn't as though she hadn't already made a favourable impression upon Cora too.

"Did you like working in this dress shop?"

"I did and I learnt a great deal while I was there."

"So you can make anything I ask you to?"

O'Brien's lips curled upwards in amusement for the briefest of moments.

"I should imagine so m'lady, within reason of course."

"Of course."

Cora furrowed her brow as she gave the woman a faux-serious nod, unable to contain the smile that burst forward. O'Brien fared better for a little while but eventually smiled too and Cora placed the papers neatly on the table in front of her – at least she wasn't quite as terrifying humourless as her previous maid and even if she wasn't French she seemed liked she was quite suitable.

"Well I can't see a thing wrong with your references Miss O'Brien and my mother-in-law seems to approve. Could you start soon?"

O'Brien surprised her by reaching out and placing her hand against the side of the teapot.

"I could start now if you're thirsty?"

Cora stared at her for a frozen moment, wondering if the woman really had just been audacious enough to speak like that, as though her services were something Cora was sorely lacking and if she was sensible she'd acquire them as soon as possible. Cora felt herself smile once more when she realised that whether it was a tone anyone else in the house approved of or not, Miss Sarah O'Brien was probably right in her assumption.

"That would be wonderful. I'll be in my rooms so if you'd inform Mr Carson he can send the rest away I'd be very grateful, I do so hate having to deal with all this difficulty."

"Of course m'lady."

O'Brien was on her feet, tray in hand, her bag angled out of the way as she turned and walked towards the door, pausing briefly to look at Cora with the slightest sign of puzzlement.

"What if he doesn't believe me m'lady? 'e's no reason to listen to me after all."

Cora stood up decisively and felt as though a great weight had lifted. Sarah O'Brien seemed like a decent enough bet, she surely couldn't be as terrible as some of the others Cora had seen and her previous maid had been forced up her by Violet and scared her so much she'd never dared to ask for a single thing. At least she was starting off on better footing with this one and Miss O'Brien was already more on the ball than the housemaids she'd been stuck with lately.

"I'm sure you'll think of something. Bulter's are easy after all, I'm sure you can make him listen. The Housekeeper might be more troublesome though."

With the slightest hint of a raised eyebrow, the finest poker face Cora thought she'd ever seen and squaring her shoulders in a way that was eerily reminiscent of her mother-in-law Sarah O'Brien left the room. Cora followed suit and was only marginally surprised when her new maid beat her to her own bedroom with a new tea-tray in hand.

"How on earth…?"

"I don't know what it was about that dress shop m'lady, but it turns out I'm rather good at getting people to listen to me."

Cora laughed and knew there and then she had made the right choice.

* * *

><p>"<em>You're sailing perilously close to the wind O'Brien."<em>

Cora positively slammed the door of her bedroom behind her and Sarah thought she caught the briefest glimpse of his lordship in the hallway looking contrite but it didn't matter, he had little chance of coming into his wife's bedroom tonight. Whatever had happened it was clear that he was partly to blame – Sarah wasn't surprised, she'd been here long enough to know he was a dolt of the highest order – and she smirked internally at the thought of him being well and truly banished. Even Earl's had to pay heed to their wives wishes it seemed.

Cora placed a half empty bottle of spirits on the dressing table and Sarah glanced at it without too much puzzlement. The Countess wasn't one to habitually take strong drink in the privacy of her own room – that wasn't she say she never had but usually she preferred to have Sarah fetch her the bottle – so she could hazard a fair guess that this particular bottle had been confiscated from her sister-in-law and Cora had come straight here rather than taking it back downstairs.

"Good god O'Brien, if Rosamund talks to me like that again I might have to physically _throw_ her out of this god damn house!"

When she got like this, his lordship called them her American moments and they were always best kept from Violet less she claim more ammunition, Sarah found she liked her mistress more than she usually did. She seemed a great deal more human when she was angry and there was little Sarah found more edifying in life than seeing those that deserved it receive a pasting from their betters. And Cora, though not born into the society that _still_ looked down on her sometimes, was most definitely a better of Lady Rosamund's. To Sarah's mind, and she would acknowledge that a great deal of her opinion here was inspired by Cora, the redhead was nuisance to be tolerated in their household and the sooner she went away the better.

She placed a soothing hand on Cora's shoulder, silently telling her to be still and allow her to do her job and make it better somehow and without question Cora stilled and breathed deeply.

"What has she done this time m'lady?"

If it had been any other lady Sarah was fairly sure she would have received a sharp word for speaking about her husband's family in such a way but Cora instead just sighed and clenched her fists vaguely. They were too used to each other now for such a disrespectful slight to matter.

"She's as bad as her Mother sometimes! I'm sick to death of them coming here and telling me how to run _my_ household. Perhaps it's to do with being American but it just seems plain rude to me."

"And unnecessary m'lady. I'd say you run this house as well as it could ever be run."

Cora nodded along in the mirror, unable to see her maids face as the woman unbuttoned her dress but mollified by O'Brien's voice containing a suitable level of sympathetic outrage.

"_Thank you_. Although you're the only person who seems to think it."

"Oh I wouldn't say that. All of us downstairs think you do a fine job and I've overheard Mr Carson himself saying that the old Butler always seemed to have a lot more difficulty with the Dowager."

"Hmmm," Cora smiled wryly and turned to catch O'Brien's eye. "I can certainly believe that."

She settled herself at the dressing table and O'Brien followed her lead, recognising that some of the anger was beginning to leave her and she wanted her hair taken down whilst she was in the mood to talk. It was their evening habit to do this now, talk about the day – primarily Cora's of course but Sarah knew so much of her life was taken up with the Countess that it would amount to the same thing anyway – and share opinions upon what to do the following day. Sarah had a feeling Cora would never know how many of her decisions were swayed by her maid's subtle interference.

"She'll be gone in a day or two and the only thing she'll cost you after that is a few trays of vegetables."

"I wish. She'll go in January but James and Patrick are here in the Spring so no doubt she'll inflict herself upon us again."

Sarah hummed sympathetically and carefully ran her fingers through Cora's curls, separating them gently and taking her time over it: the Countess never did mind being a little over pampered and it was far from a difficult task for her after all. Gaging Cora's feelings about various things was sometimes more of a chore. Normally she got along very well with Lady Rosamund – assuming their interaction was mostly through letter – so Sarah sometimes found herself waiting to be led into the sort of discourse they should have on the woman. She much preferred it when Cora was angry with her, it allowed her much more room for manoeuvre when Cora was angry with someone else, and the Countess had been known to enjoy her scathing comments on those occasions.

"Or inflict herself upon Mr James again. He was so scared last time he came and hid in the servant's hall with us for a little while and Mr Carson was a bit put out."

"Well if she's disrupting Carson's world then perhaps Robert will pay a little more attention. I think he's always valued Carson's opinion more than mine…you know O'Brien, he once actually asked Carson's opinion upon a Christmas gift for me?"

Sarah was perfectly aware. The Earl had asked Carson, trusting his judgement a little blindly and Carson, because he had always had more sense, had immediately consulted O'Brien's opinion and she had told him quite plainly that Cora would hate it. Carson had listened, displaying admirable sense once more, but Robert had thought she was being contrary on purpose and given it anyway. Cora, unsurprisingly, had hated it and ever the Dowager Countess had told her son he was a fool for thinking she would like any landscape quite so hideous. Needless to say, Sarah had been waiting for just such a moment to bring it up.

"I know m'lady. Mr Carson asked for my opinion and I told him it was revoltin' but in my experience men never do listen."

Cora turned around and looked at her wide-eyed.

"Really?"

O'Brien nodded and Cora chuckled and shook her head from side to side, not especially surprised that her maid had been the only one with enough sense to know she didn't like landscapes of horrible looking forests. She turned back around and met O'Brien's gaze in the mirror.

"Well, I wish Robert listened to you as much as he did some others."

"Do you think things'd be easier if he listened to Lady Rosamund m'lady?"

Sarah smirked at her briefly before beginning to remove her jewellery, carefully unclasping the necklace and earrings and placing them in their place on the table as Cora giggled.

"No! God, why are this family all so _difficult_? Between Rosamund interfering and James needing his special kinds of food and Patrick being indifferent to Mary _at best_ it would be bad enough, but then I have Robert being dense and Mama never being pleased with anything at all."

She breathed deeply and didn't allow herself to become angry again. It would only spoil her sleep after all.

"But they are family I suppose, I shouldn't say anything…"

"It's not _my_ place to say anything m'lady but I think you're perfectly entitled."

"Oh no O'Brien…"

Cora turned in her seat, moving her legs out from underneath the dressing table so O'Brien would be able to reach her stockings with ease.

"If you have something to say please do."

* * *

><p>"<em>O'Brien's been wrapping me in silk and feathers…"<em>

Sarah O'Brien swept towards Cora's room with the tea tray as Lord Grantham was leaving. Whatever the Doctor and then Cora had subsequently said it had left him with a wide smile and he seemed to be bouncing down the corridor when he passed Sarah. Rather than glaring vaguely, as was his custom, he'd even graced her with a smile and told her jovially that he was relying on her to look after Cora.

What did he think she did all the bleedin' time anyway?

She nodded her assent politely though and opened the door herself, wondering what on earth was going on. She normally prided herself on knowing everything before everyone else but all she knew was that Cora had said she was feeling a bit peaky and for a moment - a single moment in which she forgot that she hated being here - she felt a stab of concern. What if it was something serious? But then why would his lordship be looking so pleased?

Once inside Sarah was immediately greeted with the sight of Cora looking like her face was going to split with the smile gracing her lips. Oh Christ…this couldn't be good. She inclined her head and waited to be addressed, her tongue positively burning with the desire to ask questions. But it was more than her job was worth if insubordinate behaviour got back to Carson or Hughes.

"O'Brien, I have some _wonderful_ news!"

Cora slid into the chaise and Sarah had a feeling that whatever this supposedly _wonderful_ news was, it certainly wasn't going to do her any favours. Cora looked up at her with bright blue eyes, brimming with fondness and Sarah made sure to keep eye-contact with her mistress and look interested whilst she placed the tea tray on the correct table.

"You certainly seem to have perked up since earlier m'lady."

Cora leant back against the plush sofa and brought her hand up to her stomach. It was an odd gesture as far as Sarah was concerned – something she had never before seen Cora do in their ten years together. It took her a moment to place it but the gesture was one she associated with protection…

"Doctor Clarkson just told me I'm carrying a baby. I think that's more than enough to perk me up."

Sarah tried to keep her face as neutral as possible. She'd never had to deal with a pregnant employer before and felt like she did ten years ago when she'd all but blagged her way into being a lady's maid and didn't know exactly what to do. She knew enough not to look miserable but felt it creeping in nevertheless; if Cora had been content with an aging maid to look after _her_ then it was one thing; no one would sanction someone her age looking after a woman carrying the heir of Downton. She'd be packing her bags before the end of the month no doubt.

But something stopped her from falling utterly into despair. Far from looking as though she was about to sack her companion of ten years Cora was looking at her with expectant hope, the slightest hint of uncertainty behind her excitable gaze. It occurred to Sarah that if she was too old for the role then Cora was in an even worse position and, not for the first time of their long years, Sarah gave her a fond smile and turned pointedly away from the tea set.

"I'm very pleased for you m'lady," her smile widened as she met Cora's eye. It was impossible to ignore such infectious delight really. "It certainly explains why his lordship looked so pleased."

"Oh, I expect he's offering cigars and brandy to every man he sees. He'd invite the men from downstairs into his study too if Mrs Hughes would allow it!"

Well, Sarah thought uncharitably, he might with Mr Bates. Instead she reached for the tea and poured a cup for Cora habitually.

"Actually O'Brien…would you mind putting a little more milk in that usual?" Cora lowered her voice and spoke as though they were not the only two people in the room. It was something she'd done in the past and though Sarah couldn't help but think it charming at the time she resented it afterwards. It was this imitation of friendship that had led her astray before. "I have something of a taste for it at the moment."

Sarah nodded with a muttered yes m'lady, wondering if there truly could be something wrong with her to want to serve Cora as well as she could in moments like this and then complain about liberties being taken to Thomas afterwards. _This_ used to be her act but now she wasn't sure which was which.

She handed over the cup and felt the warm summer breeze coming through the slightly open window. What fool had left that open? Sarah strode across the bedroom and reached into a cupboard, craning her neck and standing on the tips of her toes to reach for the blankets that had been stored away for the wintery months. She pulled down the one Cora thought was the softest and crossed the room again.

"You should keep warm, there's no telling what a breeze'll do to a baby. Doctor or not, I don't suppose 'e had enough sense to close the window."

Cora giggled and placed her tea on the side, keeping her arms out of the way obediently so Sarah could drape it across her lap and tuck it around her.

"Dear O'Brien," Cora reached out and took her hand gently, folding it between both of hers and squeezing. "I _knew_ you'd look after me."

* * *

><p>"<em>I'll not hurt her. And I'll not let anyone else hurt her neither. That's all I have to say"<em>

Through the long and agonising hours Sarah knew that she had been as wrong as wrong can be. She'd thought her punishment was a penance that required her to stay with Cora forevermore and take care of the woman she had wronged never able to reveal the truth of her guilt or escape from it such was Cora's reliance upon her. But she was horribly wrong and god what a fool she felt now for ever imagining it would be something that simple.

She clung to Cora's clammy hand, using her other to bring the cool, damp handkerchief across Cora's hot brow, hoping that using the softest piece of linen she could find in the room would make a difference to her lady. Only the best for her after all and she deserved a better maid, someone of better character, she always had and Sarah wished she could be a better woman for the Countess. She'd tried, dear lord she'd tried to be better, be kinder, be softer, after the war had started…she told herself it was the war that had made her change. The darkest part of her knew she was lucky that the war had started when it had. Millions of young men dying and so much destruction all around would make anyone change, even the immovable and unemotional O'Brien at the end of the table, not quite the Butler's right-hand but close enough, would change her tune. And she had but how stupid they all were that they didn't notice she had begun to change a week before the war even started. Or at least she thought she had.

She'd _tried_ but then there was Ethel with all her stupid ideas who needed bringing down a peg or two, and then Thomas had come back and still been a fool who needed her help and she couldn't help herself. And then Bates again, the bloody thorn in her side and god what she wouldn't give to have gotten rid of him for good and last of all Vera, who she shouldn't have helped, shouldn't have let herself like even the slightest. And now after all the trouble she's caused here she stood unscathed once more and here was her ladyship, paying for _her_ sins and it was so bloody unfair Sarah wanted to scream. It was HER fault. She should be the one dying here in a sweaty heap and no one should sit at her bedside and hold her hand but her Cora deserved to live and she'd give her the grounding she needed to come back to them all.

Cora had survived the last time and she could survive this couldn't she?

The Countess stirred a little at the touch of something cold to her forehead but didn't open her eyes: Sarah wasn't sure if she just didn't want to for fear of the light or whether she was unable at the moment. Her lips moved slowly and Sarah balanced the handkerchief on her skin and reached for the water glass. She doubted Cora would be able to drink much but Dr. Clarkson had said it was better if she took water and if that was the case then Sarah would see to it that she damned well took water whether she liked it or not!

Cora's grip on her hand tightened and Sarah didn't dare remove it but did manage to focus her mind upon the practicality of exactly how she was supposed to get this water into Cora without just pouring it over her. She briefly entertained the notion of doing as birds did and somehow transferring it from her mouth to Cora's before dismissing that as a bit disgusting and sparking off her worry that she too was becoming delirious. She refocused and placed the water back down, reaching for a clean tissue on the table, not once loosening her grip and squeezing back every time Cora did.

"I'm here m'lady. And you're not to worry, I'm here and you're going to be absolutely fine, I promise you. I just need to…"

She dipped the tissue in the water, immersing it and lifting it out and carefully bringing it over Cora's face. A few droplets fell on her cheeks and intermingled so quickly with the sweat already there that it made Sarah's resolve briefly tremble but she pushed on and held the tissue over Cora's parched lips to drip water in. She let out a sigh of relief when it work and the small trickle of water coming from the tissue seemed to be being drunk.

"That's it m'lady."

She repeated the action and managed to get Cora to drink more before dropping the sodden and useless tissue on the side table. There were others there and she could always do that again later if Cora stirred but now she had gone back into her deep slumber and Sarah wished to god she'd been in a position to ask the Doctor what was to be expected through the night. None of the family had of course – Lady Sybil already knew of course but surely _one_ of the rest of the useless lot must have wanted to know? – and she tried to curse them all but found even she couldn't raise anger at girls who were scared for their Mother. She cursed Robert Crawley as much as she did herself though. She knew as well as Cora did what he had been saying to his wife, was the man honestly fool enough to think Cora would keep it all to herself rather than tell her oldest and most trusted confidant? But she knew more than Cora, she probably knew more than anyone else in this bloody house about what went on after all, and she'd seen the way that new maid looked at his lordship. More importantly the way he looked back…

"He doesn't deserve you m'lady."

She brought her hand up to take the handkerchief once more, dabbing at Cora's skin as delicately as she could manage, promising as she had last time that she'd give her own life for Cora's if need be but knowing all the time that the world was nowhere near that just. If it were young men like her brother would still be around being daft and all the old bastards who had sent them to die in the cold mud would be the ones lost forever to some foreign field. But he was dead, her sweet, innocent brother and she was still here, the eternal bloody survivor who deserved no such grace.

"None of us deserve you… least of all me."

She dropped the now warm handkerchief onto the table alongside the tissue and her free hand came up to idly stroke the hair out of Cora's face, her gaze never leaving the other woman once. She marvelled at how hot she was, last time she'd done this with her ladyship – that time of her own devising and somehow worse and better than this – Cora had been cold as ice. After the miscarriage she'd been bereft and empty and so numb with her own internal agony Sarah had only realised that Cora was awake when she blinked. The other woman's pain had so exactly mirrored her own and seeing the same thing in the bright blue orbs had made her heart ache more with each passing second but Cora had let her carry on stroking her hair, both of them pretending that everything was going to somehow be alright.

She wanted to tell her now. She'd tried earlier in the brief dark moment she'd thought Cora was going to die and she couldn't let her go without telling her that it wasn't her fault and _she_ hadn't lost the long sought after heir but instead it had been all her aggrieved maid's doing. But Sarah had stopped herself with bite to her lip and decided then and there she was going to believe in Cora's life rather than her conscience. What did that matter when Cora beating this feverish state was so much more important than anything else in the world? If she woke and heard that her trusted friend had been the one to cause her accident it would hardly make her stronger would it?

Sarah wondered if she'd ever tell her, if the time would ever be right. Cora's deathbed was not right. Maybe her own would be better but she didn't pretend to think Cora would be there and if it was something like this taking her than she wouldn't want Cora to get too close and risk her health again: she didn't like the odds of it being the third time lucky for her taking Cora's life.

"But we're all still here. His lordship is scared to see you like this you see, or else I'm sure he'd be here as well. I'm sure you'd prefer him."

Cora made a noise in the back of her throat that didn't see to end with her being in distress so Sarah reached for a fresh tissue, repeating her trick with the water whilst she had the chance. She squeezed her hand and got a response, smiling softly at their joined hands.

"Mary and Edith keep trying to talk their ways in but I locked the door and Sybil keeps telling them off for disobeying Dr Clarkson. They all love you so much m'lady and I think if they could wear bubbles on their heads and come in they would."

Cora made another noise that Sarah took as a sign she could hear her so she carried on, dripping water into her lady's mouth and making sure she wasn't choking on the sudden water.

"Mrs Hughes said she lit a candle for you in the church. I know you and me don't believe in that rubbish but it was good of her I s'pose. Oh," she squeezes out the last of the water and was pleased to see Cora had drunk it all so she decided it would be best to give her more while she could. The more she drank the better. "And Mr Carson's on the mend apparently. We'll have a full house again soon enough, you'll see."

Cora made a noise that might have been showing her pleasure so Sarah took it as such, wiping the back off her own damp hand over her forehead and placing the handkerchief in the bowl of water to wet it again. She placed it on Cora and her mistress made a noise that was not entirely dissimilar to the purr she usually gave whenever Sarah managed to relieve her of a tense muscle. Sarah smiled at her fondly and leant down, hand never leaving Cora's increasingly tight grip, and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"I know you'll come back to me."

* * *

><p><em>Sarah stood in the church with a heavy heart and clutched the hand in hers. Her ladyship had intended to give her some privacy in her grief but Sarah had not allowed her to move away for a second and so they both stood in the imposing Abbey and stared at the tomb that could have belonged to one of Sarah's brother or even Cora's lost son. <em>

_It certainly didn't belong to the latter – he had his own plot in the Crawley plot – but Sarah found some comfort in the idea that it could very well be the former. The Unknown Soldier was supposed to be for all of those that had lost somebody who had never been recovered and there were so many of them that the chances were fairly slim. But she'd beaten odds before, they both had and as Cora had known no young men who died at the front she had said she'd give her share of luck to Sarah if she could._

_Privately Sarah thought they'd both used up all their good luck but it hardly mattered now that the worst of times were over. The war was done. The illness that had swept through them like the hand of death preying upon everyone who'd thought themselves safe in their soft beds had gone and now there was talk of the future. She'd never been much for the future – Thomas had thought of nothing _but_ his future – however, Sarah had always been more of one to look to the past and here, amidst all this ancient stone, perhaps the time had come to face her past?_

"_M'lady…a while ago now I did something terrible, something I regret bitterly with everything I 'ave."_

"_Oh Sarah," the hand in hers grew tighter and the tone immediately told Sarah that there would never be a right time. She turned to her lady and saw that she was crying too, looking down at the sea of flowers that decorated the grave of a man who might be prince or pauper, might be Evelyn Napier, might be a farmer, might be an O'Brien._

"_Do you really think there's anyone who doesn't these days?"_

End.


End file.
